


anecdote

by Siria



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, F/M, Pegging, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something in the cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anecdote

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lonelywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelywalker/gifts).



> Expanded version of a comment ficlet originally written for Lonelywalker; thanks to Sheafrotherdon for audiencing!

“Think about it this way,” Clint said as he tugged his t-shirt up over his head. His face was flushed, his forehead already damp with sweat, his hair in disarray from Natasha’s impatient fingers. “In fifteen, twenty years’ time, this will be a hilarious story.”

Natasha snorted, kicking her way out of her dress and sending it flying into the far corner of the bedroom—even such thin silk had felt almost unbearably hot against her skin. She had no idea how they’d managed to make it back to their quarters without JARVIS interrupting them with a politely disapproving reminder about the Tower’s policy on public nudity. Probably he was distracted by the situation developing in the living room; Natasha was willing to bet it was spectacular enough to distract even a highly efficient AI. 

“Well,” Natasha said, pushing Clint back onto the bed, “play your cards right and you’ll have me laughing a whole lot sooner.”

Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha when she climbed on top of him, ran his hands along the curve of her back. His gun calluses were a pleasurable friction, setting her to shiver, and Natasha couldn’t help herself from grinding down against him. She liked the roughness of his jeans against her inner thighs, the way she could feel the denim against her clit even through the damp cotton of her underwear. She’d already come once, just from kissing Clint in the elevator while he pinched and teased at her nipples—she bet she could come again from this alone, before Clint ever put his mouth on her. 

“We’re never letting Thor make us dessert ever again. ‘A confection which gives a pleasing warmth to the senses’, are you kidding me?” Clint said. It was a terrible thing, that he could sound that disapproving while mouthing his way down her neck. 

Natasha made a tactical decision and took off her bra.

“Then again, it was a very thoughtful anniversary gift,” Clint said before taking one of her nipples into his mouth. Natasha’s laugh broke on a moan as he sucked, hard enough to make her ache the way she liked best. 

“I’ll be sure to write him a thank you note.” Natasha rose up on her knees, giving Clint enough room to unbutton his jeans and push them down to tangle around his thighs. When she sank back down, she shuddered at the feeling of his cock pressed against her; the promise of him pushing inside her later was enough to send her over the edge again, soaking her panties and making her cry out. 

Clint swore under his breath, flipped them so that Natasha was on her back and the grind of him against her was almost overwhelmingly good. She whimpered when he pulled away, but then realised what he was doing: his breath was hot against the ruined cotton before he tugged the crotch of her underwear to one side and licked at her: once, twice, three times, keeping the aftershocks going more and more until the heat in her built up once more and she shuddered with it. When Clint looked up at her, his mouth was wet with her and he grinned and Natasha couldn’t help herself from tugging him up to kiss him. 

“You think Hallmark makes a card for stuff like this?” Clint asked her between kisses. 

“What?” Natasha said, planting her feet against the mattress and canting her hips up to allow him to press into her. The heat fizzing through her blood made her curls stick damply to her forehead, to the nape of her neck, but the sensation still made her shiver. “A ‘Thank you, co-worker, for lacing my food with an alien aphrodisiac’?”

“I was thinking more ‘Congratulations for rendering Tony Stark speechless for the first time in a decade,’” Clint said, words stuttering out between thrusts, stubble scraping against her cheeks, her mouth. 

“Unexpected plus,” Natasha said, and slowly but inexorably tightened around him until Clint was gasping against her neck and coming. It was delicious, to feel him hard and shuddering inside her; to feel the way he was still hard once he’d caught his breath, to feel his hips start to move again. 

“Shit, Tash,” he said, voice starting to get hoarse and ragged at the edges, “I’m going to need to requisition a tub of aloe and a sling by the time this is done.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him, ran her hands slowly and deliberately down his back to cup his ass. “Getting ahead of yourself, cowboy,” she said, teasing at his hole with a finger. “You’ll need the lube first.” 

Clint yelped and came suddenly, as if the orgasm had been startled out of him, before saying, “Wait, wait, you still have the strap-on?” His eyes grew wide. 

“Got a new one in London. Back of my wardrobe, third shelf from the top on the left,” Natasha said, and was barely half way through the sentence before Clint was off the bed and heading for the wardrobe, still hard cock bobbing ridiculously between his legs. 

When he came back he helped her fit the harness onto herself between breathless, giddy kisses—Natasha thought she could feel the artificial heat starting to fade from her system, but this had always been good between them, the soft leather snug around her hips and Clint spread out beneath her and the noises he’d make. 

Clint rummaged in the bedside locker for some lube and tossed it to her before sprawling back on the bed. “Forget the thank you note,” he said, stroking his cock, “maybe we should get Thor a gift card? Best anniversary ever.”

Natasha tilted her head, considered, before kneeling on the mattress. “Not a bad idea. He did really enjoy that Red Lobster shrimp buffet.” Which was somewhat of an understatement, given how they’d been thrown en masse out of the branch in Orlando for taking the ‘all you can eat’ clause too literally. 

Clint stared at her for a long moment before starting to laugh. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, but he just flapped a hand at her. “Sorry, sorry, not you, I just—it’s Tuesday afternoon, you’re about to fuck me up the ass because an alien aphrodisiac has made us so horny we can’t think straight, and we’re discussing getting a demi-god a gift card to a middle-of-the-road restaurant chain.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Natasha said, deadpan, “I’m... still going to presume you want me to fuck you.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Clint said, tossing off a messy salute and grinning at her.

And really, Natasha thought, as she slicked herself up and slid into him—really, Clint had been right. One of these days, this was going to make one hell of a story.


End file.
